Absence
by MsTran
Summary: Marcel, now an unkempt, old man remains resided within a trivial shack for the last ninety-one years of his life. With each spent, does he continue reminiscing the perturbing reminders sixty-eight years back. Who knew that his first, would be his last?


_We've been trapped for .. _

_How long, now? Perhaps, days. _

"Is that right, _Cosette?_"

Plumes of hot breath rose from his depleted nostril, rather densely with the evident extent of his prolonged abjection. The air within the trivial shack exuded with frigid wintry, pervading his tense self. The many folds upon the bags beneath the draining azul of his eyes displayed, was enough to give a brief insight of the previous weight he had once withheld or gone through the paining trial of. Also one of which he had grown more than weary of as the days drifting by. Now thinking about it, when was the last time he had ever even truly bothered in keeping track of that? What more could he have truly done? His final hours of rotting in utmost anguish would only come to an end before he would even be able to dawn upon realization.

"I suppose," He steadily reclined, back stiff as the blurring span of his vision was proven incompetent in even registering the slightest of details as it averted to the eroding cements of the crummy ceiling. Applying everything else seemed to be such a negative variation compared to his considerable capacities as a youth. The elderly man then stilled from there, a hoarse grunt dug out from the already tightening canals of his throat. "Although, you and I both know it's been more than mere days. _Years_, in fact. Much more than I'm now even capable of remembering. Living up to being ninety-one years of age really does take quite the toll on me."

_I'm well aware, Marcel._

"Then, tell me, why is it that you still pester me with such unwanted, agonizing reminders of your presence?"

Just as he expected, the only thing settling through was the excruciating silence.

Given the lack of response from the disembodied voice, Marcel ran a coarse palm through his grey, unkempt hair that left so little at the top of his head, and only a small smile appeared at the corner of his lips. However, even so much as the air itself within his surrounding remained heavily polluted with utmost melancholy that could be tasted upon the spread of his dry tongue. Regardless, Marcel then breathed on without further question.

"I miss you."

In truth, how he longed to hear her sweet voice again. It would be more than enough in exchange of not being able to see her lovely, glowing face. Even so, he still managed in painting out the canvas within his head. That seemingly young, juvenile, radiant expression that had swept him away, ever so love struck. Her beautiful hand would guide him away and off into a blinding field of blooming flowers of all sorts, of which were lavished in gleaming particles of snow reflecting the sun. He could still recall the breath promptly liberating from him as his eyes settled again upon Cosette's face, of which were framed by her flowing strands of gold. It was already mesmerizing enough by her facial features alone. Jubilant, emerald eyes that still left so much things unsaid, unheard, and unspoken of.

Marcel's temples pulsed, eyes soon welling up with tears that did not seem to rack him in sobs, for that's been long overdue.

Pertaining himself to the ailing memories had given him the moment to crack with regret. Her abrupt absence left him speechless, and questioning, even to this day. What in the world had he resorted to? Or rather, exactly what, lead her to even do so much of as to even put that particular decision into consideration? Ties left loose, parchment remaining cluttered. In the end, he had only himself, but to blame.

Wherever the answer truly resides, not in a million years would he choose otherwise of being more than willing to die happy in being able to simply hear her creamy suave voice again, study her imposing features, or feel the compassionate press of her tender touch once more. Whoever knew, that his first, would be his last? Why did he even desire such a confined affection in the first place? Should've known better, should've done better. With an inward shake of disapproval, Marcel had already long decided that it's been much too late for a turn of tables.

Just then, his realization loomed off astray from his train of thoughts. Why had her responses cut short? There was anything yet to be heard.

"Cosette?"

The dampened silence came to his utmost attention at last.

"Cosette?!"

Marcel repeated the calls, his words gradually spreading discordant with woe. However, to no avail, the consistent resonation of his ordaining cries set to a cease. Already, he had lost all the remaining will to proceed on, for his heart, mind, and body racked with incessant sobs. The matter had promptly harrowed his impure thoughts, only having to suddenly feel nothing more, but rueful.

The raw bitterness moderately settled through, taking full capacity and briefing him the entrance of the dark abyss at the very back of his mine, one of which had guided him back to dreams of old, and stories left untold.

* * *

_68 Years Ago - 4E 201  
_

"Round him about, Marcel. Round him about!"

Without even brief hesitation, the young bloke hastily hurried after the astounding prey, adrenaline coursing through his very veins within his perpetual pursuit. The high overcast had been consumed by dawn's shimmering daylight, peeking through the surrounding's lush foliage. Abating his steps, Marcel then decided it was now the time to make use of the fine bow and arrow in his grasp. With that, the lad warily readied it, the soles of his cloth boots pressed with a delicate crunch with each substantial advance upon the both blinding and glistening snow of which reflected lambent glaring of daylight beneath him. Marcel's vision streamed deep into the distance, averting to just about every inch of the surrounding. This was no mere trivial prey that he could ever blunder at killing, but rather, a great snowy sabre cat.

This had been the first time in ever he'd been able to spot one, and with the miles traveled this far, he wouldn't stop at any cost. However, only briefly studying his apparel, Marcel could only agree to the fact that he still could've worn a little more than mere trousers and a tunic.

The sharp, emerald green orbs of his eyes darted from tree to tree, his ears not quite as keen as an elf - being human and all - but still more than able enough in picking up the slightest of sound. "Come on, now.. Don't be shy.." He breathed, rather discreetly to himself, his nose already bright red from the stinging bitterness of the cold that prickled. The terse snap of a twig sent an instant wave, filling his ears. If not instantly, Marcel turned upon his heel, his vision taking in the landscape that had only been interrupted by the lethal creature that had leapt directly at him, jaw wide and revealing its set of razor sharp teeth. Before even allowing the cat to tackle him down, Marcel's nimble blithe fingers retracted the arrow, firmly latching it back into place before a swift release.

Breath liberating from him, all tension from his arms gradually receded, only leaving the previous apprehension remembered. Eyebrow beaded, Marcel's jaded eyes remained tamed upon the arrow of which had sunk deep into the now still sabre cat. His bow steadily lowered at last, allowing him a breath to shakily execute, the dew visibly dispensing from his lips into the crisp air. Gradually advancing over towards the mounded carcass, Marcel then leaned over, solidly yanking out the arrow that had been deeply embedded within its tough flesh before prompting himself to do this same with its tooth. Completing so, Marcel then swathed the tooth within a cloth, tucking it into his satchel before making ways back to Rorikstead.

_. . ._

"Back already, Marcel?"

The blooming warmth within the Frostfruit Inn emitted a pleasant torridity, Marcel's silhouette proceeding in from the rigid door that shut almost discreetly behind him. Mralki's eyes averted from his incessant wiping of the bar table, off up to Marcel's own enervated gaze. "Definitely wasn't easy, but I managed, didn't I?" A visibly meager smile compelled at his lips, Marcel's expression almost pallid with considerable lack of regard. Evidently, whatever seemed to formerly apprehend him played its sweet, tenuous part.

"Glad that you did. Although, don't breathe a word about it to Erikur. It'll only come to be discouraging in the long run."

"Might've been luck, is all. Worry not, Mralki. I've been around long enough to know that would be unwisest of actions. It's a vast world out there, and there's a fair share of dangers and wonders. Would hate for him to face the worst. Even if I may be competent of handling myself, doesn't mean he will be. Least, yet. "

"Regardless, even I'm well aware that I won't be able to contain him for long. If it wasn't for me remaining ever so uptight against his desire, he would've probably been able to reach a long ways away by now. Could be that, or the lack of gold I'm able to offer. However, nevermind that. I don't have to ask, do I?"

"The usual? Of course, just pass up whatever's available."

"So, everything." A teasing wink prompted, beaming from Mralki as he steadied himself in fetching a bottle from beneath. The quaint, placid mood set between the two only allowed Marcel a terse chuckle from so. Only then, did he sedately issue a sober expression while studying the ingrained bottle placed before him, seemingly scrutinizing it in brief silence. "If you don't mind my asking,"

Mralki halted, delaying his work and granting heed to the now lamentable Breton, of which sat languid before him. "Love, do you consider it a burdening weight?" Marcel's eyes averted from the bottle, aligning to Mralki's own fatigued ones. The curiosity had evidently extended in the way it was displayed within his overstated gaze. The man returned a questioning glance, concisely before thwarting off back down to his ceaseless bar wiping.

"Well, depending on how you treat it, love can endow either bliss satisfaction, or inundate you in harrowing regret. As undeniably wondrous as it can be, the delights that love can bear only corresponds with adverse contradictory. Why do you ask? You're a curious filly?"

With the response, Marcel remained mute with restraint, only this time more content than before. His thirst for knowledge had again been rejuvenated. "Sure, we'll settle with that."

Mralki's eyebrow moderately erected, his eyes containing modest beguilement this time. "That so? Or is it just an obvious excuse for concealing your eagerness in your future endeavors."

"Perhaps," A smirk played at the fading rims of Marcel's lips, of which tainted moist by the brief sip of his mead, his emerald eyes concise on Mralki. "Though, as petty as love can be to me, it doesn't hurt for a bit of insight. All I know is that I'm living for today, and not tomorrow's satisfaction."

"Ha! Cheers to that."


End file.
